An Ordinary Day
by Morbid Muse
Summary: *Trapped Fic* Things aren't always as they appear. (Note: takes place after an Alternate Ending!)


Fandome: Trapped  
  
Title: An Ordinary Day  
  
Author's E-mail: Amandab9@aol.com  
  
Rated: PG-13 to R for dark themes  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. yet!  
  
Summary: Things aren't always as they appear.  
  
Author's Note: Ok, instead of the real ending, Joe escapes with Abby and Cheryl. Just go with it.  
  
Warning: This is a dark and twisted story  
  
Feedback: Yes, please!  
  
--  
  
(Two years after the movie)  
  
Joe sat down in his favorite chair after a long day at work. He looked up into the eyes of his favorite little girl and smiled.  
  
"Come here, Kate."  
  
The little girl silently approached him.  
  
"Smile for me, darling. No one as sweet and young as you should ever look so sad."  
  
Suddenly a huge smile was painted on the girl's face.  
  
"Now come sit on daddy's lap and tell him about your day at school."  
  
The little girl, still wearing that mask of a smile, climbed onto Joe's lap and began an edited narrative of her school day. She talked steadily and told him what she had learned he wanted to hear. She left out the part about how Johnny Goldsmith had stolen all her crayons during social studies when they had been coloring a map. She remembered what happened last time and so was worried about how Joe may react. After all, Johnny usually wasn't that mean and she didn't feel like moving again.  
  
"Sounds like you had a great day."  
  
The huge smile was back and this time with a nod.  
  
"Hey, Kate, do your old man a favor and get your mommy?"  
  
And because the little girl was so used to this by now, she didn't tell Joe that she was not Kate, that he was not her father, or that the women in the kitchen was not her mother. She simply trotted along until a solid wall separated her and him.  
  
Then the mask fell from her face. A deep, shaky breath in and she was off to the kitchen. Abby shoulders were all the way down by the time she reached Cheryl in the kitchen.  
  
She tugged at Cheryl's apron. Three months ago Joe had decided Cheryl should always wear an apron when cooking. As always, he won, but this topic hadn't even been worth fighting over so there were bruises as a result. Not from that order anyway.  
  
"He wants to see you."  
  
"He does? Now?" Cheryl straightened her apron and stuck on a faltering smile to match her uncertain eyes. "Thanks, sweetie." Cheryl never called her by a girl's name like Kate or Abby; it was always a pet name or nothing at all.  
  
Cheryl walked to her husband. "You want to see me?" And her voice didn't even tremble.  
  
"I just wanted to be with my two favorite girls. Come here." Joe patted his left thigh.  
  
"I really should finish dinner or else it won't be done by 7:30. Then things would be off schedule and not follow our nightly plan."  
  
"Lighten up, Cheryl. We're not doing anything special tonight and I just want to spend time right now with you both. Is that a crime?" he patted his leg again.  
  
This time Cheryl sat on his lap. She felt a little strange since she was almost his size but didn't say anything.  
  
"Come here, Kate. I want you sitting right here," Joe tapped his other leg.  
  
The girl popped out from behind the wall where she had been watching them and noiselessly followed Cheryl's action.  
  
Cheryl fought back the urge to cry as Joe tilted back both girls' heads back gently towards his and closed his eyes, savoring the moment. She even fought back the other urge to run for the liquor cabinet.  
  
Joe yelled, and did worse, about what he called her drinking problem. He said it wasn't good for her or for "Kate". What if he was at work and she needed Cheryl but Cheryl was too drunk to help? It was selfish and she had to stop for the good of the family. She lost count of how many times he had tried to pound this into her.  
  
But she needed it. She needed it so she could function whenever Joe was in the room. Needed it so she could function whenever she saw the platinum blond child she knew wasn't hers. Needed it on the off chance that someday it would kill enough brain cells so she'd forget that the real Kate died and could believe that the kid they raised as their own really was.  
  
"There now. Isn't this perfect?"  
  
No one answered. 


End file.
